That Tainted Kind of Flawless
by liketheyknowthescore
Summary: You want to fall in love with her. You want to be everything she needs and then suddenly, you're just that.


**A/N: Dear fello writers, a new Spencer and Toby story!**** I recommend listening to Owl City's "Saltwater Room", for this is based off that wonderful song.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own_ Pretty Little Liars_, I believe we've been through this before...**

**** She's struggling to uncover your phone number in her vast contact archive, she doesn't have the energy to ponder when she gained so many numbers, her eyes are wet and her head is punding. She eventually discovers the digits that she's been yearning for, and her fingers tremble violently when she selects the call option.

She's sobbing, you can tell by the way her words crack, and you know its not typical for her to allow anyone to know she's upset, for a moment you feel a twinge of pride, and then you remember that she obviously called you for a reason.

Her tone is coiled with melancholy as she echoes the afflicting words that were spoken to her not long ago. Melissa vowed she was a slut, and she whispers reassuringly to you that she's not usually so crude, her accusations have never been so tart and scathed. Yet you can't shake the feeling of fury and angst over the girl you care about, and you would take things up with Melissa yourself if only your relationship with the Hastings parents wasn't already testy and frail. You just promise you'll be there, and as you reluctantly hang up you can't help but think how screwed up the Universe must be to involve you so numerous situations.

When you arrive at her otherwise isolated home, you'll lace your harsh fingers in her lavish hair and breath sugary sayings of comfort in her ear and she'll clutch your shoulders and her sobs will be become muffled and muted against your chest. Even when the utterly destructed part of herself is cried out, your arms will still be snaked tenderly around her willowy frame, your denim sheathed legs will tangled together, and in an almost inaudible murmur she thanks you for staying with her and supporting her, and you will simply coax her chin up and gently press your lips to hers. You'll tell her its no problem, because well, you'd rather be here mending her then alone.

Half the time, you don't know where your relationship with her grounds, but that's okay because she doesn't really know either.  
>You know its beyond the friendship level - friends don't kiss like that, friends don't hold each other like that. Yet its strange for you to consider her your girlfriend because you two are such an extremely odd couple. You ponder sometimes how you would describe her importance to you - you decide one night when she's tucked under your arm and your watching her chest rise and fall with each heady breath that you'll call her <em>your<em> Spencer.

She's different. Its been achingly obvious from day one when she popped up your porch willing to convert languages; of course you knew she was there for another purpose. Only when she admitted she was framed did you begin to feel a twinge of sympathy for her. She's studious and intelligent, but she's also more raw and open then you've ever given her credit for. When you're with her you feel right..content. You feel at home with her.

She's been keeping things from you, you can tell by the way she swiftly adverts her eyes from her phone. She'll tell you it was one of the girls, or her sister, yet you can hear the painted on statements, you know the cryptic meanings weaved in the depth of her words. But it doesn't seem to concern you right now, and if it gets too unbearable, you know if you pester her enough she'll confess. Right now you're happy to let her take her time with things.

You love how you can make her smile, how you can bring that glimmer of amusement in her eyes, and how she can cause a ghost of a grin to spread across your face as well. She's just so completely amazing, you find yourself twined in her charm and lost in her eyes.

Her stunned expression just makes you want to chuckle, like when she leaped up in surprise upon you beating her at Scrabble, you like that too, how you're a challenge to her. And naturally she's gonna fall for none other then the guy who conquered glyceraldehyde with goofball. Of course.

Her family doesn't approve of you. Its obvious by the way they scold you with frosty, judgmental eyes. You try not to think about it too much, if they were really so skilled at characterizing people then why on Earth would they allow Ian to ever be involved with their eldest daughter? Spencer tells you its nothing and they'll become more accepting over time - you shouldn't worry too much.

You just enjoy being in her presence, when you're working on the taut repairs of your motorcycle and she sprawled out on the porch (of course Jenna isn't home) and randomly questions you about the different parts, the sun radiating off her giddy smile strikingly.

"When will it be completed?" she ponders one day, vivacious hair spilling off her shoulders.

You smile at her, and its genuine and warm. "Soon." And then its back to wondering aloud and sloppy grins, and she's throbbing with exhaustion, but she won't tell you because she knows you'll insist she go home.

Jenna confronts you one day, you're sitting in the yard, trailing your finger through the dirt, it seems like something freak-Toby would participate in, but your not really a different person, just more courageous and developed.

"What is wrong with you?" she snaps, voice brittle as glass.

"Nothing." you respond, puzzled by her sudden question.

"Why are you fooling around with Spencer Hastings?" You can hear the detached tone, the voidless words, but you refuse to spare her a single glance.

"I'm not," you unclench your teeth and exhale serratedly before concluding, "fooling around with Spencer, or anyone for that matter." The last part of your sentence is needled with rejection.

"Toby I may not be able to see, but I know exactly whats going on."

You stand up now, you almost want to take her by the shoulders and shake her until she comprehends. "Jenna, nothing is between us, nothing more then siblings, and I can see whoever I like," you hiss, voice lethal. For once she's speechless. And for once you're not afraid of her.

Spencer's lips part in awe when you announce you quit fearing Jenna and Jenna quit taunting you (for the most part). She shoots up from her place on her bed, eyes widening. "Toby." She murmurs, and she almost forcefully grabs your hands and locks your fingers with her's. "I am so, so happy for you." And since Spencer isn't horrendously cliche, she won't strain on her toes to kiss you, instead she just stands there and grasps you hands, beaming, but it seems like so much more.

You two have a lot of these moments, you observe, when you take her hand in yours and she instinctively becomes rigid and then gradually obtains comfort in your gesture. You think its because she doesn't entirely trust you, and you want her to, you want her to be able to put faith in you, but she's Spencer, and Spencer frets about everything, and Spencer is not just going to put all her trust in you at any impetuous second. So it comes as a surprise when she actually does.

You surprise her one day with lemon-tinged Italian Ice on her front stoop. She says its "so unlike you," while wearing humored smile and you reply with a coy "maybe I wanted to try something different for once." So you two sit and chuckle and eat. Before you leave you unexpectedly capture her wrist and her gasp is audible as it whistles through the bland night. Her lips taste blissfully piquant.

You've never said 'I love you' before, and you know for a fact she hasn't, so its kind of mutual when she links her arms around your neck and whispers in her so familiar voice that will forever be your favorite sound without comparison: "So tell me darling do you wish we'd fall in love?"


End file.
